


Pretty Birds, Sharp Sticks, and Thee

by Merfilly



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smallville gets a new flower shop, and the woman running it turns Clark's head. As time goes by, mysteries and new alliances unfold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Birds, Sharp Sticks, and Thee

**Author's Note:**

> When I began this, Dinah hadn't been introduced on the show. It is a completely AU version of Season Six. Originally posted on Livejournal in serial format between '06-'08.

The flower shop had been empty for quite some time. No one had been able to make a good business thrive there, and yet someone was going to try again. Of course, maybe the fact there were flowers being carted in meant it stood a chance; no one else had actually tried to open a flower shop there.

Clark first saw it as he was stopping by the Talon to put up new flyers for a meeting his mother was hosting. He did not think much of it, until he saw the raven-haired owner of the new business. He found himself stopping in mid rush, looking at the petite beauty pointing out where she wanted everything. She did not look any older than himself, maybe even a little younger, but she radiated self-confidence, even at this distance.

"Hey, move it, Kent!" one of the people trying to get in the Talon said, making him aware he was blocking the path. When he looked back over at the flower shop the small woman was gone.

"Sorry."

`~`~`~`~`

The door jingling brought a muffled 'right there' to Ollie's ears as he walked in the shop to see what might appease Lois's wrath now that he had offended her…again. He browsed the coolers, noting the exotic and traditional blooms on display, the elegant arrangements making use of color and size contrasts between the flowers in them.

"Can I help you?" The Gotham accent was striking to ears grown accustomed to Smallville's lazy speech. Ollie turned back to see a woman who might come up to his shoulder, little more than a girl, actually, her face still soft with the last traces of true youth. Her jet-black hair was cropped close to the jaw, and her piercing blue eyes seemed to see right through him. 

"Yes, I need something for my girlfriend," he answered her, eyes sweeping over her in flirtatious appraisal. She rolled her eyes at his roving ones, but smiled.

"Let me guess, she caught you looking at someone else, had a tiff?" the girl asked. "Right this way," she added when he could not respond in a way that defied her summation of the situation. She guided him to an arrangement that was, in truth, quite stunning in its use of subtle color variations.

"Hefty price tag," Ollie commented, noting it off handedly.

"As if you could not afford the very best, Mister Queen." Her casual use of his name made him look back at her.

"Have we met?" he asked, planting his false smile, even as he ran her face past his memories, wondering if an ex had come back to bite him in revenge.

"No. Sometimes, though, a woman can be found looking at Fortune 500 rather than Cosmo." She smiled, but he thought he detected a sharpness, one that warned not to underestimate her. 

The door jangling intruded on him asking her name, and Ollie looked to see Clark coming in.

"Clark! Come to meet the latest entrepreneur in Smallville?" Ollie asked, picking up the arrangement. She deftly took it from him, her fingertips brushing his just a moment, causing him to look down. Perhaps it was dealing with the fine thorns or the wire that caused the calluses he had felt before she moved away. 

"Actually…yes," Clark said, with that fresh-face charm that Ollie hated him for. He hated it for the fact it was not an act; it really was Clark Kent's way to be so damn humble and nice…at least where normal things happened.

"I'm nothing special to see, Mister?" she said, prompting him to introduce himself.

"Kent. Clark Kent."

"Ahh, the son of Martha, I presume?" She smiled at him. "Don't worry, I don't judge people by their parent's politics." 

Clark looked perplexed for a moment. "I take it you don't agree with her platform?"

"Not that, Mister Kent…I just tend to prefer to let first impressions form on their own basis, not the basis of who you might be connected to." The petite brunette gave a smile his way before focusing back on Ollie. "Now, Mister Queen, the flowers do no good without a properly repentant look, but then I'm sure this routine is an old game for you," she said cheekily, settling the arrangement in a gift box.

"You know, I never caught your name, Miss."

"Perhaps because I did not pitch it," she replied. "Dinah. Dinah Lance."

"I'll remember that," the blond promised before walking out with his purchase, nodding at Clark in passing. The farm boy walked up to the counter, giving the girl there a nervous smile.

"I saw you moving in yesterday…didn't take you long to open up." Clark glanced around at all the arrangements already on display.

"It's not the first time I've set up a new shop," she said, just a hint of grim bitterness around the edges of her words. "Besides, I'm not much for sleeping. I was able to get things ready through the night."

"Ahh." He smiled at her, and then felt a slow flush at the way she smiled back, seeing something in her eyes that spoke to a part of him he had shut off with Raya. "I, umm, just wanted to say…welcome to Smallville." He was also curious why she had come, and where her family was if she was as young as she seemed to be. Those things he would find out over time, he decided. "Maybe you'd like to join me for coffee when you close up? Or I could run go get us two cups now?"

She laughed softly, her voice musical in ways he would not have suspected given her Atlantic Seaboard accent. "Are all the locals so friendly?"

He blushed bright red at that. "I'd like to say yes," he replied.

"Green tea, hot, no sugar." She winked at him. "And then you have to let me buy coffee tonight, when I close."

`~`~`~`~`

"So what brings you to Smallville?" Clark finally asked. He had taken the tea back, and then found himself helping her move things in her stock room, spending the entire day with her. Dinah shrugged.

"I wanted to be away from the big city life. Kind of tired of facing it," she told him softly, nestling into the booth. 

"It seems hard to be tired of something when you're only …seventeen?" Clark guessed. He smiled as she did.

"Nineteen, actually, but sometimes…sometimes people live more young than others do all their lives," she told him. "I couldn't stay in Gotham anymore, not after Mom's shop got trashed in the last riot by those gangs there."

"I heard about those. Some kids dressing like clowns, trashing businesses, hurting people." Clark had also seen the blurred photos of a giant bat like creature chasing them down.

"Yeah." She traced the rim of her coffee cup. "I sort of upset the local authorities with my reaction to it, and decided leaving was prudent." She noted his quick glance of concern. "Nothing illegal, Clark. I'm just…I told them my father would have been ashamed to know them. It hit a bit harder than I intended, since Dad was a good cop. An honest one too."

"He's…"

"Dead. Died when I was nine. Mom passed away three years ago, left me on my own to manage a business and graduate high school. Tried college for a semester but wasn't for me." She shrugged. "Sometimes being a flower shop girl is all I ever want."

"And others?" Clark leaned in to see her face as she replied, but her cell phone beeped. She smiled ruefully and answered it.

"Bird and Bower Flowers," she answered firmly. "Oh. Yes…of course. Be there soon." She hung up the phone, and gave Clark an apologetic smile. "I have to run. Please…feel free to stop by the shop."

"I think I'd like that." He watched her walk away, making plans to stop by quite often.

`~`~`~`~`

Green Arrow hissed as the shuriken embedded in his shoulder, disrupting his pulling arm. He tried to switch hands, get his grip properly, before the yakuza could get on top of him. The numbers were not promising, four on one, and he needed his distance.

That thought fell to the side as a new factor came into play. He wanted to rub his eyes, seeing a woman in fishnet stockings, black leather leotard, old fashioned butterfly domino and a long black coat leap into the fray, downing two of the yakuza in the space of three strikes.

"What the…" He wasn't going to waste the effort, as he did shift his grip and fired a light pull arrow. It pinned the one readying another shuriken, and left just the one muscle man. Ollie moved to handle him, but the woman shifted, making an impossible spin kick from where she had been and catching his jaw, knocking him out and down.

"Saw you as I was passing by," the woman said, her voice clear and …what accent was that? He could not quite place it, striking him as odd. He was completely entranced at the way her long blond hair fell around her face, he decided.

"Thanks." He retrieved his arrows as he kept one eye on her. "Make a habit of rescuing vigilantes?"

"It pays to help out those who share the calling." She tossed him a saucy wink. "You're the Green Arrow bandit," she commented. 

"Can't say I know you." That, he decided as he took in her curves, the way she stood easy in those boots, was an omission worth rectifying.

"Hmm, no surprise." She made a leap, and was up on the platform leading back to the street level. 

"You have to have some name!" he called back to her petulantly.

"Maybe I haven't earned it yet." And then she was gone, out of his sight, but not out of his mind.

`~`~`~`~`

"Haven't earned it yet, huh?" Ollie stared at the archival photo of a woman in a costume similar to the one his helper had posed in. "So, miss Canary, who are you in relation to this woman?"

He continued to stare at the twenty plus year old news clipping detailing the career of Black Canary, a streetwise woman who had cleaned up her Park City neighborhood of drugs, gangs, and vandals.

Life, he decided, was so much more interesting when the girls came out to play.

`~`~`~`~`

Clark had not seen the new girl in town much outside of working hours at her shop. He sometimes managed to catch her at closing, and she would join him for coffee, but it was almost the rule that someone called her, and she would excuse herself to go back to her apartment above the shop.

Chloe, upon listening to the umpteenth story of Dinah Lance, finally ran a background search, to be sure her friend was not getting himself in trouble. 

"Okay, your new florist is the daughter of a florist…who shared her first name," Chloe told him the next night. Dinah had been Clark's obsession for two full weeks now. "Her dad was a cop…and an honest one, hard as that is to believe in Gotham. He was killed, in the line of duty, supposedly, but at least one reporter was made to shut up after suspicions his fellow cops did it came into play." 

"She mentioned the cop and florist thing…just not details," Clark said, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"It gets worse." Chloe winced. "Her mom did die three years ago…in the gang riots just before Gotham got as crazy as Smallville." She pointed to a picture in a societal column, showing a younger Dinah under an umbrella at the funeral of her mother, a tall, striking man at her side. "That man…rich kid with issues."

"Bruce Wayne, the multi-millionaire heir to the Wayne Foundation," Clark said, recognizing the face from various news stories. 

"She appears a few more times with him in the papers, until about ten months ago." Chloe looked at Clark with hard suspicion for the woman. "Then she vanished, completely and without a single sighting, until she showed up in Smallville." 

"Ten months?" Clark dredged his memory for why that might be significant.

"I think she's been bought off by Wayne, sent to escape the public eye…and somewhere, there's an illegitimate heir to the Wayne Foundation," Chloe said smugly. Clark looked at all of Chloe's notes, then nodded.

"Makes sense with the bitterness. I bet the phone calls at night are some kind of checking up on her, making sure she stays quiet," he said, not happy at the thought of her being a prisoner to such a life.

"So your mystery woman is no mystery at all…just a kid who got involved with someone she shouldn't have."

"You're probably right."

`~`~`~`~`

Green Arrow fired off three arrows in quick succession, then dropped into the fight he had found, where six men were battling the one woman.

"I don't need help," she snapped, her body bending at a near impossible angle, her foot finding a throat and crumpling its owner. 

"Fine; I'll stand back," Arrow quipped, as he punched a second man, one of the ones his arrows had found. True to his word, he did step back, and watched her. He was glad he had; the four thugs stood no chance as the woman in fishnets whirled and moved with precisely controlled speed and force. She was everything a fighter could be, to his way of thinking. In the span of just a few minutes, all six lay on the ground, and she was casually flicking her hair back from her face.

"You always interfere in a girl's fun?" she asked, her voice and body screaming a saucy attitude. 

"Believe me, I wouldn't dare presume again," he replied, his shaded eyes raking over her with far too much appreciation. 

"Good." She indicated the warehouse. "Now excuse me." She stood centered against the door, twenty feet back, and drew in a deep breath. "You might want to cover your ears."

He looked startled. "What? Why…oh god!" His hands flew to his ears as a high, fluctuating tone emerged from her mouth, and the warehouse doors exploded inward. That was more than enough to set off alarms, and Arrow hissed as he heard them, her noise dying away. "What did you do that for?!" 

"To give the cops a reason to enter, without needing a warrant," she said, quickly moving away, toward a bike. "I'd clear out if I were you."

`~`~`~`~`

Clark dropped the paper in front of Ollie.

Green Arrow Reveals Cache of Illegal Firearms!

"Good job. Not your useful motif," Clark said with a grin. "You're taking this crime fighting very seriously now?"

"Not my work," Ollie said casually. "I helped, but it's a new vigilante on the scene."

"Oh? What's he like?" Clark was frowning, making plans to track the newcomer down.

"She." Ollie appreciated the look on his friend's face. "All woman, and then some."

"I might just come check out the crime wave you keep berating me about. I don't want you getting in over your head if there are other loose cannons on the streets at night."

The businessman laughed full-heartedly. "Why Clark…are you hitting on me?" The blushing and stammering that ensued did nothing to ease Ollie's fit of humor.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah glanced up as the door jangled, smiling at the pretty woman. "Good morning, can I help you?" She thought the other woman looked a little exotic, might even have been beautiful if she had been able to get her rippling emotions of distrust and anger out of her eyes.

"I'm looking to set up deliveries, fresh flowers, everyday." The woman looked around with an almost possessive, definitely nostalgic air, taking in the way the new owner had set everything up. 

"What quantity are we talking about? I'm still having to bring my flowers in from Metropolis currently, as my green house is in the fledgling stage." Dinah tried to project a friendly nature at the customer, but she seemed cold to the world around her.

"If you don't feel you can handle it," the woman began arrogantly, making Dinah's blue eyes snap.

"Miss, I assure you I can. I just need to adjust my orders accordingly, and it would help if I had guidelines to the rooms the flowers will go to." Under the very polite words, there was a layer of steel that made the customer truly look at the woman who had invaded her childhood by taking this shop.

"Lana Lang. If you can make time, I'd like to show you…you seem to have a very tasteful eye for arrangements." She held her hand out to shake the other woman's.

"Dinah Lance, ma'am." She started to set an appointment, but the door opening made her look up to see a bald gentleman entering.

"When I heard who had leased the shop, I did not think for a moment it was really the same woman," Lex began.

"Mister Luthor," Dinah said, and even Lana noticed the temperature in the room seemed to drop at her tone.

"Oh come now, Dinah, surely after what we shared, you can call me Lex?" he said, baiting the petite raven-haired woman, knowing Lana was growing both confused and angry. "How is Bruce these days?"

"I wouldn't know. I've been traveling the world until I came home and found my mother's shop destroyed." Her eyes cut into the bald man as he came to where he towered over her, his arm going around Lana.

"Miss Lance here is quite the socialite, Lana. You know who Bruce Wayne is, correct?" he asked Lana, even as his own eyes stayed locked on Dinah's face. "It seems he likes to use his girlfriends to find out about rival businessmen."

"Oh, you take too much credit on yourself, Luthor. You'll never be in Bruce's class," Dinah said. She then turned back to Lana, her face a carefully controlled mask. "I think, Miss Lang, it would be best if I worked from photographs, if you are still interested."

"I can come by in the morning," Lana said, risking Lex's disapproval to find out more, if she could.

"Still digging up dirt for him, Dinah?" Lex asked, radiating menace toward the woman.

"Lex!" The jangle of the door and Clark's voice mixed, with the latter carrying tones of disapproval. Lex turned, looked at his one time best friend, then back to the petite woman. 

"I see you found a new man to hide behind." Lex tightened his arm around Lana's waist. "Let's leave the farmboy and the minx to their day, Lana. Something tells me they have plenty in common, as secretive as they can be." He swept her out of the store, leaving Dinah to snap the pencil that had been in her hand.

"Arrogant bastard," she whispered, body tense with the stress of seeing the businessman.

"I take it you and Lex crossed paths?" Clark said, knowing it was obvious but at a loss for what else to say. 

"I met him at some charity functions in Gotham two years ago. He accused me of spying on him, in public, for my friend. That's not my style," she said. "It was just coincidence he and my friend were in the middle of a corporate standoff."

Clark wondered at that. He'd seen too many coincidences spin out into large things, and considering the theory he and Chloe had concerning Dinah's sudden presence so far from Gotham, he suspected this Bruce Wayne was the type to use friends, the same as Lex did.

"Why don't you come eat dinner with me, out at the farm, to get it out of your head?" Clark invited. She looked at him cautiously, evidently weighing something in her head.

"Let me make a phone call, so I don't wind up being rude later," she said with a slow smile.

"Good!" Clark watched her walk away, noting the way she moved yet again, as if there was nothing in the world that could stop her. He also could not help but listen as she used the phone in her back office.

"Hi…yeah, I know it's early. Just wanted to let you know I won't be in tonight. No, you can deal without me for one night. Just…I need my life too." There was a long pause. "Yes, I know how important it is. But one night won't be so much." Again she paused, and Clark could hear the way her breath caught. "That…that means a lot to me. Thank you. Tomorrow then." She hung up and came back out. 

"All done?" Clark asked. She nodded, smiling, but he saw the trace of wetness in her eyes. It made him angry that this tiny woman would be suffering any kind of pain because of a manipulating business tycoon, and he almost wished Chloe had not dug up her past, making him so aware of it.

"If you'll help me with my end of day, I'll close up a little early."

`~`~`~`~`

Clark let Dinah in the house, having seen Lois's car outside. He gave a flustered look as he saw Ollie was with her, before introducing the young woman with him to both ma and Lois.

"This is Dinah Lance. She took over Nell's old shop," Clark said. "Dinah, that is Lois Lane; you met Ollie, and this is my Mom, Martha Kent." 

"A pleasure," Dinah said, nodding to each of them in turn. 

"Clark says you're from Gotham; why on earth did you move to the middle of nowhere?" Lois asked with her usual lack of tact.

"A middle of nowhere you chose to stay in," Clark shot back, making the two of them pass looks worthy of a pair of eight-year-old siblings.

Dinah smiled politely to Martha, showing she did not share that opinion.

"I got tired of big city life," she admitted. "But I need a big city nearby. A friend of mine told me Metropolis had several small towns around it that might suit me, and I just put my thumb on the map to find one." 

"That's one way of starting over," Ollie said wryly. "You like it here? Me, I prefer Metropolis, but Mrs. Kent cooks better than any restaurant up there."

"Thank you, Oliver," Martha said, fond of the roguish man Lois had hooked despite a rocky start.

"Smallville does have an appeal," Lois came back, her tone baiting Ollie into an argument over the big city versus the country. Clark merely grinned, especially when Dinah seemed more than happy to enjoy the atmosphere of friends and family under one roof.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah smiled as she walked on Clark's arm through the charity function in Metropolis. She would rather have been almost anywhere else, but it had seemed like a good idea to get a chance to look in on the events of high society.

Lex was there, with his pregnant girlfriend, Lana. Off to one side, Chloe and Jimmy both were putting their press passes to good use. And there, at the center of the room, was Oliver Queen with his girlfriend Lois Lane.

In the four months since coming to Smallville, Dinah had learned a lot concerning the strange oddities that happened because of the meteor rocks, and, more recently, the events of the strange Crisis in Metropolis. She was well established as a quiet young entrepreneur, the go-to person for any function or soiree. She had a steady sweetheart, one who never pushed past a quiet kiss goodnight, and did not complain that her nights were occupied by other business.

And then there was Green Arrow.

The more they crossed paths, the more heated their exchanges grew, both on a verbal and a lustful level. She gave another look toward the center of the room, as her thoughts tumbled over the vigilante that made her blood run very hot.

Her attention was jerked back to the door as a late entry came in with a loud buzz of notoriety. She kept her features perfectly straight as an obviously carousing, well-escorted Bruce Wayne entered the party. She felt Clark's hand tighten on her arm just slightly.

//So you did run a background check. Oracle was right.// She was vaguely aware of Lex stiffening where he stood. //Oh I see that still stings. Good to know I'm not the only victim of your wrath, you son of a bitch.// Her gaze moved on, and saw that Oliver Queen seemed to know just who Bruce was. //Interesting.// She read the dismissal in Ollie's eyes, and knew without a doubt that her lover had never actually gone head to head with Queen Enterprises. No one who wound up opposite him in the corporate ring dismissed him as the fop he acted in these functions.

"Oh, this is where you hid yourself off to, my pretty girl," Bruce said as he got to her, blatantly ignoring the man escorting her. "You remember Tiffany and Brittany?"

"Quite well," she said in a brittle tone. Her sharp smile at them sent both scurrying to get drinks. "Bruce Wayne, this is Clark Kent, Senator Kent's son. Clark, this is Bruce Wayne, Gotham's _most_ eligible bachelor and rich kid with issues."

"Oh come now, Di…still sore at me?" Bruce held his hand out to Clark. "Nice to meet you…admire your mom."

"Umm, hi." Clark felt uncomfortable in the tension between the pair, even as he shook hands with Bruce.

"I believe sore would be the understatement of the year. How is Miss Kyle, by the way?" Dinah wrapped her arm around Clark more possessively. A flicker of irritation swept through piercing blue eyes before Bruce gave a casual wave and smile in Ollie's direction.

"Well, if it isn't Gotham's own millionaire womanizer? Oh, but I see you found your little pigeon already," Lex said as he wandered over. "And Clark…I should warn you; she'll only ride your arm until she's done his bidding and they play kiss and make up."

"Lex; long time, no see," Bruce said in an unruffled tone. "Dinah and I were just catching up."

"But don't worry, Lex, you never even came up," Dinah said with a sweet inflection. Clark flushed; even as at odds with Lex as he was, he saw that this pair and Lex had butted heads fairly hard. She then looked up to Clark, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I'm going to go find the powder room while you men beat your chests and make postures." She walked away with a twist of her hips that drew three pairs of eyes for varying reasons.

As she slipped out of sight, she moved into a quiet alcove in the mansion hosting the charity drive, pulling her phone out and dialing a number.

"Bird?" The voice on the other end was sleepy.

"O, you didn't warn me he was coming to Metropolis tonight." It had not been part of her plans to have to play the role of Brucie's ex tonight when she had hoped to confirm a private theory.

"Sorry, Bird. He did not tell me his plans."

"Typical." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Talk to you tomorrow night, usual time." She hung up and turned to go, only to find the object of her conversation turning into the alcove with her.

"Oracle?" he asked in a low, low voice. She gave a sharp nod, started to ask him what he thought he was doing, before he had covered her mouth with a finger. "I came because, after your last run-in with Lex, I felt it necessary to remind him who you …"

"If you say belong to, I will kick you somewhere most intimate," she snapped softly. He smiled at her.

"Work with, then. But you are mine, Di…we've been tied together since we were kids." When he ran a thumb along her jaw, she did not protest.

"Well, just don't mess me up, tonight. I'm trying to confirm the identity of the Green Arrow, like I told Oracle last night." She would never not love the man with her, even if it tangled somewhere between lover and sister these days. The water under their bridge cascaded with far too many, too complex issues. In the end, their mutual dedication to what they did was enough to insure they would be side by side for years.

"I won't get in the…" He stopped, and then quickly leaned in, claiming her mouth with a hungry kiss, stifling her protest as his hands slid over her backside. She twisted away, hand already in motion and boldly reddening his cheek in a solid slap as Clark turned to see them.

"How dare you?!" Her eyes flashed with anger and hurt pride.

"Oh come on, Di…you never minded before," Bruce drawled.

"You never had that…tramp Selina crawling all over you in my face before," Dinah hissed, shoving past him. "Clark!" she rushed to his arms, and got just the slightest amusement out of the posing that ensued.

"I suggest you leave her alone, Wayne," the farmboy defended.

"Oh sure sure…she's yours for now," Bruce said with just the hint of a smile. "But she'll always come back to me, Kent. Us Gotham kids stick together." The heir to half of Gotham gave Clark an appraisal that left him stripped naked and vulnerable before moving past and back to his true targets.

"Did he hurt you?" Clark checked her over as she stayed within his loose embrace.

"No…He would never hurt me. He just presumes." Dinah snuggled close. "Let's go back in, Clark…we promised your mom to keep our ears open for her." She smiled up at him winningly, and he relaxed slowly, taking her back to the party. There were days that Dinah felt a twinge of guilt for continuing to see him, with his naïveté, but Chloe wasn't her type, and both of them seemed to land right on top of the weird and unusual, just the things she was exploring.

`~`~`~`~`

Two more arrows snapped into the air, as the archer struggled to hold the creature off, sparing only the briefest glance to where Cyborg was lying face down. He wasn't sure where the crazy speedster had fallen; he had been running when he got hit, and the inertia could have carried him out of the city. Their mysterious ally had not come to this fight; that worried Green Arrow in itself, as he had grown to depend on the staunch shape shifter's powerful abilities.

"Come on, S.B. Pick up and get here," the archer growled in his microphone, knowing his computer was trying to get Clark on any of his contact numbers.

The creature glinted with a crystalline sheen. It was one of those things Clark called a Zoner, and had just wandered down from Canada, leaving a trail of random destruction.

The aching pressure and blanketing white noise of the woman he called Black Canary suddenly assaulted his ears, but the force of it was all on the creature. A rippling blur told him either Superboy or Impulse had arrived, just as the creature's crystalline shell began shattering under the sonic assault. Green Arrow forced himself to concentrate, readying his final arrow, a cryogenic formula head, as he saw Black Canary to one side, slowly falling to one knee under the effort of maintaining her vocal power so long. He let fly on her last note, watching with satisfaction as this arrow embedded, and did its work.

"It has no mind," came the rippling voice of their mysterious member, showing he had arrived. Superboy heard that, and gave a punch that shattered the creature, leaving them breathing hard and wondering just how they would explain this one. 

"On-the-clean-up!" came Impulse's voice, as he used his speed to handle that little detail. Superboy assisted, while the Martian went to help their unexpected ally come to her feet. Green Arrow would have preferred to do that, but he squelched the idea and went to assist Cyborg instead. The sound of sirens responding meant they needed to get out of the immediate area quickly.

"M! Bring her back with you!" he shouted, getting Cyborg up and moving. The Martian nodded, and then both non-super fast men were swept up and carried away by the two able to break the sound barrier.

`~`~`~`~`

They had found a small building to suit their purposes, a place riddled with various pieces of high-tech that should not exist, as each member contributed to their team from what they had found over the years. Black Canary looked around behind her domino mask, glad again for the new lenses Oracle had installed in it that hid her eyes.

Seeing Clark among these heroes had been a blow to her confidence. She had never suspected he was more than a kid with a case of curiosity and dumb luck.

Green Arrow removed his sunglasses, letting his hood fall back, and she almost smiled; the cocky Oliver Queen had been a good guess on her part, and she might one day tell him no disguise worked well if your native speech patterns did not change. She looked at the three she did not know; the boy who moved constantly seemed familiar from police rap sheets she had 'borrowed' in the past. The half machine, half man team member was still twitchy from the blow that had taken him out, but the other one…the one who had touched her mind and asked her to come help them, he was helping the hurt young man.

"Alright, pretty bird. We've brought you to our hideout, and none of us are hiding our faces. You've been working the edges of Metropolis quite a while, and I haven't pressed, but this League only works because we have trust. And we want to trust you, to get you actively involved," Oliver explained. He knew Clark could scan her face under the mask, but they had adopted rules early on; new heroes had to choose to share their secrets.

The lady vigilante let a small smile touch her lips. "Who said I want to play in your boy's club?" She looked over each of them. "Where's the other one? Aquaman?"

"Pretty well-informed," Cyborg chuckled. "For someone who doesn't want in the clubhouse." He smiled at her. "Name's Vic Stone."

"I am John Jones," the somber one with him said, with just a hint of mental flavoring that made her ache for his loneliness.

"Bart Allen. Please stay…we need someone prettier than Ollie to look at," the speedster said with irrepressible humor.

"Clark Kent," the uncostumed, suspicious farmboy said, wanting to just _look_ , but understanding Ollie's concept of mutual trust.

"And I'm Oliver Queen." The blond waited for her to make up her mind, and then breathed out when she reached up to remove her mask…and wig?

"I know, Mister Queen; Clark," she said, her voice returning to Gotham's harsh accent, as Smallville's own flower shop girl stood there. "Dinah Lance, at your service."

"Well, I'll be damned," Ollie managed.

"Quite likely," Vic agreed.

`~`~`~`~`

Clark opened the truck door, and handed Dinah out of it, still trying to keep the mental connect between the civilian and the vigilante. It was difficult; she never let things slip from one side to the other. In the two weeks since the staggering revelation, Clark had seen her fight at each of his teammates' sides. She was a chameleon in her technique, a different way of doing what she did best for each partner she worked alongside. Even Impulse, so used to working in reaction to others found she could anticipate him and set the situation up for his unique gifts. It had Clark insanely curious about how she had learned so much. She was younger than all but Bart, and yet she made even Ollie look like a rookie sometimes.

And she had a meta ability, which made Clark wonder about its origin. After much careful courting of her trust, by ignoring the dual life and continuing to show up for coffee dates, Clark had finally convinced her to come on a picnic, where she might be willing to talk more openly.

"Beautiful," she said, looking at the pond, the field, the sky. "A little…disquieting for a city bred girl like me…so much space, so wide open."

"I guess I can see that," he commented, grabbing the blanket and the basket. She took the blanket from him, then followed him to a spot he knew. They did not talk while she spread the blanket out, waiting until they had drinks and food laid out, the picture of rural contentment.

"So, Clark, what's eating at you?" she asked, teasing a cherry off a stem.

"Dinah…I know you like to keep your lives separate, but…I'd like to know how you are so…"

"So what?"

"Good at it." Clark watched as she toyed with another cherry, enjoying their tart taste. 

Dinah sighed softly, shifting from 'fresh to the country' to the more hard-boiled woman who ran alongside them in Metropolis. "Wish I could say I just am. But Mom…my mother was a costume. Ran the gangs out of Park City before she married a beat cop from Gotham. Did some work there, but vigilante laws were cracking down." Dinah gazed off, not seeing anything but her past. "They both taught me stuff, from the time I was a little girl. Was going to be a cop, just like Dad. Things changed, and I kept learning, but the lessons got harder." Clark reached out, his hand covering hers on the blanket as she got a little choked. "When Mom died, I threw everything I had into making myself the best. Swore I wasn't ever going to let someone I loved die on my watch."

Clark heard the raw determination, and wondered where her known association with Bruce Wayne came into it all. He started to ask but she moved closer to him, brushing her cheek to his lightly.

"So what about you? I never even twigged that you were part of the meta explosion," she told him, her eyes bright with curiosity. He could not bring himself to disappoint her need to know, and started in from the beginning, her questions drawing him further into his own story, and firmly diverting him from hers.

It wasn't until he dropped her off at her shop that he realized he had not truly learned anything he could not have deduced already.

`~`~`~`~`

Oliver Queen tried to stay focused on what Lois was saying, but her latest odd conspiracy was going right past his head as he saw Dinah flitting among the charity ball guests, making Clark pay attention as she helped him work the crowd for her mother's behalf. He finally excused himself to go talk to another businessman, one suffering the same problem he was. Apparently Bruce Wayne was letting advisers talk him into taking small bites out of other industrialists, and he had hit some of Queen's smaller holdings. He intended to talk it over with Kord and see if there was anything they could do to stop that, when Lex Corp was too much a threat to divert their attention from. The talk of business should help distract him from the fact he had far more interest in his best friend's girl than the woman he had been investing time and money in for a year.

"Hello, Mister Kord. How's your son?" Dinah eased herself and Clark into the conversation with ease when it lulled. "Mister Queen." She smiled prettily.

"Ahh, Dinah, isn't it? You're a friend of Miss Gordon, Ted's friend." The senior Kord returned that smile, warmed by her charm. "Ted's just fine, getting ready to graduate MIT."

"I'm so out of touch," Dinah said bashfully. "Mister Kord, of Kord Information Systems, this is Clark Kent, Senator Kent's son and aide."

"Ahh, I've been meaning to get an appointment with her...If you don't mind, Mister Kent, could I bend your ear…" 

"Certainly," the young man said, half-confused as the older man guided him off for a conversation, leaving Dinah looking at Ollie with a small, enigmatic smile.

"You have been doing this as long as you have been keeping late nights." Ollie raised his drink to his lips. "Mrs. Kent's popularity continues to rise, and so many people mention her charismatic son, but so few notice the enabling Miss Lance is the true motivator."

"You wound me, and don't give Clark half enough credit." She accepted a sparkling water in passing. "Shouldn't you be with Miss Lane?"

"She's found her cousin," Ollie said dismissively, before turning his eyes to Dinah in almost a predator's gaze. She shifted her weight, one hip forward. 

"Mister Queen," she began.

"Why don't you call me Ollie?"

"Oliver," she pressed. "I've been the other woman. I don't like it. I've also been the main woman. When there's an other, it hurts." She glanced in Lois's direction. "Call it sisterhood, but I'm not playing this game." She moved away but he caught her wrist, gently, and made her look back at him.

"Your nightlife leads me to believe this isn't one-sided," he said softly.

"My nightlife just took a step back," she informed him, putting the cold of Gotham's winters into her words, before moving free to reclaim Clark from the enthusiastic Mister Kord.

`~`~`~`~`

Clark looked down at Dinah one long moment, before he rolled to his side, curling her close to his body. She accepted that closeness, grateful when he drew a blanket over them. They were in her apartment, so the option of running away really did not exist, but she just could not look at him.

"Is it your friend Bruce?" he finally asked, voice tight and hurting. She had seen him, toward Lana, knew where that pain came from, saw it in his eyes every time he looked at the red headed son she had given birth to recently. A year had settled her in as part of Smallville, even as Bruce Wayne continued his machinations, as she kept reporting to Oracle about the so-called League. When Bruce crossed her path, usually at functions where she was supposed to be on Clark's arm, they somehow always found themselves separated from the party.

When Bruce kissed her now, it was usually on the cheek. No matter how jealous or possessive he would act in front of the farm boy, as he disparagingly called Clark, they were very much over as a couple.

"No. Not Bruce…he's more like a brother than an ex." She looked up finally. "It's not important. I hurt you, and I never wanted that. I do enjoy our time together."

"But there is no love in that," Clark said bitterly. "Dinah…"

She covered his lips with her fingers, and moved so that he had to lay back, and she could push up over him.

"Shh, Clark…one more present to a man who should have everything." She leaned down and silenced his protests more firmly, trying not to think of blond hair. 

`~`~`~`~`

It had been a little awkward at the 'clubhouse' as Dinah insisted on calling the headquarters the fledgling League used. Clark couldn't seem to meet her eyes, and she avoided working alone with Oliver, despite the proven effectiveness of that team up.

When it turned out Chloe was running intel for them, Dinah almost wished her tastes had run that direction, because Chloe, at least, would not have been so 'aww-shucks' torn up over breaking up with a lover as Clark was being toward her.

Bruce, however, was not ready for her to leave them. She was his only line into the League, and that was important to him, even if he was still confining his nocturnal activities to Gotham herself. Oracle continued to give her help to be indispensable to the League, Bruce continued to run into her at functions, openly baiting Lex, Oliver, and other owners of major companies, like Kord Industries, with his foppish insults.

All of it was building up and making life all the more difficult for the woman to juggle. Something had to give, and soon.

`~`~`~`~`

What gave was a mysterious new illness. The doctors around the country were non-plussed as it was striking mostly young people, but not in any identifiable pattern. 

Smallville, however, had an abnormally high number of cases, as did neighboring Metropolis. Oliver Queen had pledged his company's assets to finding something to help mitigate the mystery plague. He kept a worried eye on his team, and was proven right when Bart collapsed in the middle of gearing up. Cyborg moved to help him, and was obviously sweating with a fever.

"It's the meta gene," Oliver muttered to himself. Cyborg was a product of science, but that science had corrupted his biology at the DNA level. He looked at John, who shook his head. 

"I am healthy. Arthur reported he was staying away, for fear of it."

"It might be just me and you," Oliver said, just before both Dinah and Clark showed up. The woman looked pale and weak, supported only by the arm around her from Clark. 

"I'm not affected either," Clark told him. "But she's refusing the hospital."

"Need to go home..." Dinah muttered softly, barely heard by Clark.

"She says she needs to go home. What good is that going to do?" Clark demanded, afraid for the girl he had dated for most of a year, and seeing that Oliver was just as focused on her as on the two boys.

John was the one that moved forward, catching snatches of information hidden behind the bars of Dinah's disciplined mind, a discipline that was slipping with the effects of the fever and illness. "Clark, you need to take her to Gotham, to the East Side Clinic for the Underprivileged. We will maintain watch over our teammates, but she thinks the needed help will be found there."

"I...yes, John." He picked Dinah fully up over a protest that was as much instinct as stubborn and then he heard Chloe cough over the open communication lines. She gave him an address and flashed a map up for him to see. It would be a long run, but Clark could do it. His team needed him to. All of them, as even Oliver and John were looking more than worried enough to fall apart...and he had never thought John could be frazzled.

`~`~`~`~`

The building Clark found looked like an abandoned tenement slum, but a small sign insisted it was the place he'd been sent for. He pushed it open, Dinah held snugly in his arms, to find a busy sick ward set up behind multiple glass walls, with volunteers helping people in the cots...all apparently suffering the plague that had been hitting worldwide in such random patterns.

"You can't come past the first wall," was the first thing he heard as an older woman, one of those people that just inspired trust by the way they moved or sounded. She really reminded him a lot of his mother, when he thought about it. Then he noticed she was staring at the face of his burden, reaching up to sweep the blonde wig from her head. "Oh, Dinah..."

"I seem to be immune to it, ma'am." He had to step out on a limb there, because if she knew it was hitting the meta population and he made that claim...

"Of course, son. It doesn't affect normal people." The woman was tired. "And normally I'd stand my ground, but you have her...which counts as being vouched for. Dr. Leslie Thompkins, son. I've known this child since before she was born."

"She's been sick at least a full day, but two of her friends only just collapsed today."

Leslie searched his face carefully, and came to some decision as she led him to an empty cot. "Lay her down, and my helpers will get her prepped for a drip." Clark obeyed, and then looked around helplessly at the nearly thirty cots that were occupied, some of them far worse than even the last boy that had dropped at school. "Now, come with me."

"Yes ma'am."

The doctor led him to a back room, one that would let out on the back alley, if he had his spaces marked out in his head right. It was dimly lit, and he had to squint as the doctor moved away, telling him to go inside.

Then a shadow moved, and Clark found himself looking at the fabled Batman of Gotham.

`~`~`~`~`

"You're the Bat Man."

"Observant, aren't you," came a tired but still witty voice. "You're one of the ones working in Metropolis, cleaning up the Zoners."

Clark blinked.

"I read the papers, a lot." Batman's lips quirked in a smile. "I take it someone in your little boy scout group fell sick?"

"A few of them, but they said I needed to bring one of them here."

"Black Canary? She's a hometown girl." The darkly armored vigilante stood up slowly, and Clark took in the outlandish armor that covered every part of the man, except his eyes and jaw. Those eyes were blue, exhaustion creeping around the edges, and as driven as Oliver's could be.

X-ray vision could not penetrate the armor, which surprised Clark.

"Why did the doctor bring me back here?" Clark asked.

"Because she probably thinks I need help." The vigilante paused, taking in Clark's puzzled look. "And she's right. You're immune to this, because your powers are not from a human mutation."

"How do you..."

"I'm sneaky and read a lot more than papers."

"I can tell." Clark found himself smiling, just because this man had a way about him that was even more likable than Ollie could be.

"Sit down, and we'll talk about what I think we can do to save the Black Canary and so many people like her."

`~`~`~`~`

Clark felt like he ought to need to catch his breath after keeping up with Batman to get to this abandoned house in the middle of a very old part of Gotham. The yard around it was a dense forest of overgrown greenery, with the house in disrepair and a notice pinned to the gate of the fence. 

"The Isley home, or what's left of it. There's a woman in there who may be the only hope for a cure."

"How do you know this?"

"I know my city. I know the people in it who are not quite pure human. And I know how many of them have shown up for treatment." Batman looked down at the foreboding lot. "She never did, and I have my suspicions it's because she beat the plague in herself. She's brilliant, but only seems to really care for plant life."

"Then how do we get her to help others?"

Batman looked at Clark, roguish smile on his lips. "Why, that's where those good looks and boyish charm come in handy."

`~`~`~`~`

Clark was able to look nervous convincingly. After all, this was some new version of a Zoner or a Meteor freak...or something. The illness was beginning to make Clark a little more aware that not all the 'different' people were because of him, weren't because of the last gasping legacy of a dead planet.

Humanity was evolving on its own, either due to Darwin's law or the varied chemicals and exposures to energies they had harnessed. Clark's arrival with chunks of his planet just sped it up, made some changes a little more obvious.

He slipped past the gates with a furtive look, managing to look for all the world like a kid out on a late night prank. He was having trouble hearing his partner, and finally decided it was straining his abilities to try, when he needed to be alert for the woman that supposedly lived on the property.

He was looking for someone like Gloria, he thought, the park ranger that had turned out to be a Zoner near Smallville. He realized, as the vines began to move around him on a final turn into the maze of run-wild foliage, he could not be more wrong.

A woman stood there, her skin having the palest green hue under the moonlight cascading down. She was bare all over, her richly red hair hanging around her in ways that both hid her form and made her appear enticingly more nude.

"Why have you entered my domain?" she asked, her voice soft as the whisper of leaves in the breeze.

"I...I heard you might be able to help me." Clark swallowed hard, aware of a slightly cloying scent rising around him. 

"I help no man, nor boy. They bring ruin and wreck to the natural way of things." The scent increased, and Clark could feel the encroachment of green growing things all around him.

"But I'm asking for a woman!" he quickly said. "A nurturer, a future mother."

"Who will breed more men to destroy the Green." 

Clark had to move forward, closer to her, as the plants were too close. She smiled, a dangerous edge to everything about her, despite the beauty of her body and hair.

"If the disease that's killing her goes on too long, it will mutate, and kill everyone," he reasoned, trying to reach some aspect of humanity within her.

"Not me."

"You don't know that!"

"Oh, I do. My plants protect me." Her glance around was far from casual, as her gaze lingered on one tree in particular. "I protect them. This is true harmony with nature."

Clark managed not to track the motion of a darker shadow to that tree, but it did not prevent her from noticing.

"You distracted me!" The woman's voice could be loud, hissing with a rasp of bark sliding on itself. She was whirling away, toward the thief in her garden, but Clark lunged for her, tripping her up. She was smaller than him, though far more sturdy than he imagined, and his senses seemed slightly off.

"It's her pheromones! They're slowing your nerve impulses!" came his partner's voice in a hiss, along with the thrashing of leaves and vines doing battle to stop him from reaching what he needed.

"Pheromones." That was something Clark had learned how to handle from a Meteor freak. With a hard set to his jaw, he concentrated on a nearer tree, and the cloying smell was masked by smoke in moments. As the woman realized he'd set a tree on fire, she shrieked, and the cloying scent became a heavy stink of fear and anger.

"My baby!" She called, fleeing the man she wrestled with a well timed lash of vines to trip him up, all thought of intruders lost for now.

Clark saw the shadow move through a moonbeam for an instant, heading out of the wild area for the dubious safety of Gotham streets, and Clark soon followed.

`~`~`~`~`

Clark caught up to Batman near the clinic, watching as he held the stolen plant carefully close to his chest. There was something almost incongruous with the scary bat motif cloaking a man being that protective of a plant, but Clark kept his mouth shut.

"I took a full cutling from it. If it is the bark, the sap, the leaves, or the berries, I should be able to deduce the chemical makeup of whatever antidote she found," Batman said softly. 

"What if it was in the root?" Clark said, afraid of being unhelpful, but too jaded by life to not be pessimistic.

"Then I get to try and intrigue her while you pull that whole tree up," Batman countered, voice only barely hinting at the tease within the words.

It made them both smile, though, as Batman pushed open the back alley door and led Clark to the small laboratory Dr. Thompkins had had set up for him earlier in the week. 

"Unless you're a supergenius to go with all those looks and muscles, it might be best if you go help the patients," Batman told Clark in a low voice. "This part is all boring trial and error."

"I might come back, but I feel like I ought to go check on Dinah." Clark winced as he realized he had called her by name, but Batman shook his head.

"It's okay, Clark...I've known her since I was a kid. Can't ask for a better friend."

Clark nodded, even if it was an uncomfortable situation for him. He knew he hadn't been falling in love with Dinah, but the relationship had been comfortable at least, and she had had a way of keeping him distracted from Lana...

`~`~`~`~`

The other patients all moved and thrashed or cried out as the night wore on, but Clark noticed Dinah grew more still, everything a quiet presence on her cot. He asked a nurse, but was told something he did not want to hear.

"Some of the patients give up, won't fight it. She might be one."

Clark looked down at the woman that had been his girlfriend, had made him smile and laugh a number of times. He studied the little dynamo that had proven saving lives was not a boys' club type thing.

"You have to fight. You have to live," he whispered. "Too many people need you. You've done too much for so many."

"And she's lost a lot," came the weary voice of the doctor. "Both her parents died to the corruption of this city. Uncles, aunts, cousins...all lost in the fight for what they thought was right over the years, young man. She's been fighting on her own for a long time, making connections to keep it up, and winding up in here far too often." The elder woman sat down on the other side of the cot, a hand brushing over Dinah's face gently. "Her mother did too. When this was run by my predecessor and I was just an intern trying to do the good thing." 

"I thought she worked with Bruce Wayne, not on her own," Clark blurted out. Dr. Thompkins looked at him in an amused humoring of him. 

"As I said, she has a knack for connections." 

"Why would she give up now?" Clark pressed.

"That, son, is between her and her spirit," the woman said before closing her eyes. "Maybe, knowing she has a friend close by will be enough."

Clark thought about it, and then laced his fingers in Dinah's, vowing to stay with her as long as it took...and praying the doctor was right.

`~`~`~`~`

"...can't leave me, Dinah. You promised. Me and you to the end of time." 

The sound of a rough, low voice roused Clark from the doze he had fallen into, and his eyes cracked open to see Bruce hovering over Dinah, his lips almost at her ear. The brash arrogance was gone as this man stood in a pair of designer slacks and a button down shirt with the sleeves not yet closed at the wrists. Clark kept himself still, slowly glimpsing the truth that the ties binding Dinah to Bruce truly did run both ways.

"Anything you need, little bird," Bruce whispered before kissing her brow gently. When he stood, it was to turn and flinch slightly that Clark's eyes were open. The sneer of his lips returned instantly, as the cold eyes weighed and measured Clark again. "Farmboy. Dr. Thompkins says you brought her in," he said in the superior to inferior inflections he was so fond of.

"I did. And I really don't feel like swapping insults with you. Maybe if you threw some of your money into medicine instead of buying up every damn company you get your hands on, she'd be better."

Bruce's voice hissed out on that. "Me, when you pal around with Queen and Luthor? Watch those stones, boy, and make sure you've got your facts straight!"

"I've seen you at the parties, seen how you court people like Kord and Dayton, then swallow their companies whole. Ollie's told me how you work!"

"Has he now? Dear old Ollie with his thriving weapon trade, selling to third world countries so they can massacre each other, then trade the guns for drugs, and eventually put the filth of both kinds back in my city?"

Clark rocked back on his heels, wondering just where Bruce Wayne had heard those lies...they had to be lies...about Ollie.

"That's not Ollie."

"Funny, I could introduce you to facts spelled out on paper. Want me to go into details on Luthor?" Bruce asked in a bitter voice. "I buy into Kord and Dayton and other companies to keep them from losing everything to Luthor and his illegal, immoral trade activities."

"So you say..."

"Boys!" the doctor entered the area they were in, glaring equally at them. "Bruce, you will be late for the board meeting unless you go now."

"Yes ma'am," Bruce said, but his eyes held Clark's for a long moment.

"Sorry ma'am."

`~`~`~`~`

Clark's next interruption in his vigil, as he chewed over Bruce's accusations, was a woman not much taller than Dinah entering, giving him a scathing look, and then settling opposite him so she could stroke Dinah's hair from her face.

"Baby bird," the woman said softly. "I know it looks like a nice, comfy way to get out of hell, but you can't do that to us. You need to come back to Earth and keep your promises," the woman crooned.

"She's doing better. The nurse said so," Clark said in a soft voice, hoping to reassure the woman. She turned piercing green eyes one him, deciding if she liked him or not.

"Mister Kent," she began, surprising him, and he let it show on his face. "Oh yes, I do know a good deal about you. I will have you know that Dinah is going to beat this, cure or no cure, because that is who she is. She fights. People who think she's choosing to not fight, don't know her well enough. She's just saving her energy for the big push."

"And you know her well?" Clark asked dubiously. Dinah rarely mentioned knowing people, and rarely were they girls without being connected back to … "You're Selina."

"Give the boy a gold star," she purred. "Yes, I am."

"But you and she don't...I mean, Bruce Wayne..." He could not make heads or tails of it, not when Dinah had seemed so emphatic about Selina being why she was no longer Bruce's girl.

"Honey, when you're as Gotham cop born and bred as she is, and making a name in Bruce's circles, do you really think it is good for she or I to be known as friends?" Selina sniffed. "She's the reason I met Brucie."

Clark frowned, as it all felt dishonest to his farmboy sense of honor, but then Dinah played the game of two identities better than any of the rest of them. 

"Gotham's a bitch, Farmboy. But the lessons she teaches about love are ones we learn hard." Selina turned back and petted Dinah's hair again. "You get better, baby bird. Kitty misses you. Need your help keeping him in order, you know." With that, and a kiss on the woman's forehead, Selina sashayed out, giving Clark another headache on the one of Oliver Queen.

`~`~`~`~`

_She heard the voices, but it was so hot where they were talking. So much cooler here, where the sun was shining and the leaves had just turned gold with autumn. Her daddy was pushing her on the swing, and it didn't matter he was talking to other police men; the police were the good guys, always._

_Momma called them, and they left the park to go home, but Momma wouldn't let Dinah come inside the shop. She promised to rush right up and get clean, but Momma smiled sadly and told her to go back. It made Dinah sad, but then the voices got louder, and maybe it wasn't quite so hot where they were talking._

`~`~`~`~`

"You look like hell, Clark," Dinah whispered as she saw him move closer.

"Call it the warm welcome Gotham gave me," he said in a low voice, an irritated look at Bruce Wayne who was also in there with them.

"Hi, Bruce," she said, reaching out to him. He took her hand, squeezed it, and then let go.

"I've got to run, Dinah. Call me when you feel up to it," he told her, brisk and business like, before turning on his heel to leave.

Dinah watched him, then turned to see Clark regarding her curiously.

"That guy's a giant jerk," Clark finally said, making Dinah smile.

"Yes, yes he is. But he's my kind of jerk."

"I don't get it," Clark said softly. "You're world class, but he's..."

"My only friend that understands me explicitly, Clark." She thought back to the day he came to buy roses for his parents, and she had impulsively hugged him, a ritual that would last for the remaining years of her mother's shop. She remembered him coming after her father's murder, confiding that he thought it was related to his own parents' case which had never been solved. She could still feel the cool air on her skin as he showed her the cave after her mother's death, vowing that they could make a difference. All the passion for justice had exploded, and he had been the one she had given herself to, body and soul, for the first time.

It wasn't Bruce's fault he was trapped by his parents' death without closure, with the little boy's fervent wish to see the world made right. He'd been so young at their death, a pampered rich boy suddenly thrust into the harsh world of crime, paparazzi, and corruption. Dinah had been more mature when it happened to her, already on her way to being jaded as the cops' kid she was. Didn't matter that Momma never wore the badge; she'd made her own difference. And Dinah followed in those footsteps, much as Bruce used the legends of The Crimson Avenger and the tales of old radio shows like the Shadow and the Phantom to guide his fight for justice.

"Don't worry so much over Bruce. Tell me how Vic and Bart are."

Clark breathed a sigh of relief. "Bart was beating it on his own, thanks to his hyper metabolism, but the vaccine the Batman found helped Vic almost immediately. His system mass produced it, I guess, from the tiny shot he got."

"The Batman, huh?" Dinah smiled warmly when Clark blushed that tiny bit of pink he did when he was caught getting excited about something. "You met him?"

"He's...he's just as larger than life as they make him out to be, Dinah. Real nice, good sense of humor, and believes so much in the things we do!" Clark looked at her, to see her nodding. "But you know that already. You probably know who he really is," Clark accused.

"I might, but that is not my secret to share."

"Speaking of secrets..." Now Clark got serious and looked vaguely upset. "What do you know about Queen Enterprises being linked to third world arms sales?"

Dinah's eyes flickered with anger and anguish, before she dropped them. "It's true. But I can't figure out just why Ollie funds third world skirmishes like that when he seems so much like...like the kind of man I can respect."

Clark was floored; he was no fool about the fact Dinah was attracted to Oliver, anymore than he knew Dinah would never do anything to steal him from Lois. But to hear her admit the same thing that Bruce had said...

"Have you asked him?"

Dinah stared at him like he had grown a third eye. "No."

"Maybe he doesn't know. You've seen how little of the day to day work he does for his company," Clark said. "Because I just can't see him doing that."

Dinah considered. "I hope you're right, Clark. Because it has been making me see his attachment to Lois as a potential situation, given her father is General Lane."

Clark stopped, considered, then grinned at her. "Do all you Gotham people see conspiracies in every shadow?"

"Remind me to introduce you to another friend of mine named Vic one day."

`~`~`~`~`

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly, this seems to be as far as I ever got on the story. The muses died on me before I got the full story of what was going on with Queen's company.... and since then, Iron Man came out. Which renders whatever I was going to do as a silly knock off now. (Even though, the story line was actually in the classic Green Lantern Green Arrow comics first, to my knowledge, back in the 60s/70s)


End file.
